I lost my ability to speak a few years ago. My tongue was torn out of my skull by a member of a neo-nazi group down south, if only for sleeping with his ex girlfriend. Honestly… I didn’t even know who he was before that.
There have been a lot of assholes on my naughty list. The guy who took my tongue is just one of them. The guy who took my legs, another one. And someday, I’m sure I’ll meet the one who will take my life.
Speaking is for losers. Speaking is for people who don’t think about what they’re going to say next.
For me, every word is precious. Every word is calculated. Every word takes time. So, I just don’t fuck about. I don’t diddle. I think carefully, and then I speak through this machine. It records my words in text format as well… so one day… one day I’ll be able to read every single word that I’ve ever spoken to anyone. That record is in here. It is permanent.
Speaking… it’s so fucking cliche. And it’s so boring.
Another reason why I’m glad that I don’t have to speak anymore, is that since everything that I’ve ever said to anyone since I started using this machine is recorded in here - I get to just use my old speeches again, and I’m not worn out by the fact that it’s the same shit again. The exact same words, fifty times in a row. Nearly half of my communication is done this way. It leaves me more time to do what I want, in the time it takes for the other half of the parley to hear my words. These words you’re hearing right now, I wrote them two years ago. It’s true what they say - there’s nothing new under the sun.
The tongue is necessary for human speech.
Everyone speaks. Even owls speak. Even dogs speak. Even cats speak. And dolphins. And bears. Everyone speaks.
But no one speaks like those with the human tongue, which is perhaps why we don’t understand anyone but us, and why, for some strange fucking reason - the only people who can understand me are… the Heirs of Slytherin.
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